Sundays Are For Sleeping
by Rsjessen
Summary: Stiles wants to know why he has to be at the weekend pack training sessions, Derek tells him why. Crossposted at: DA, AO3


Prompt words: Sunny Sunday Morning

I apologize for any Danglish found in this fic. English isn't my first language, and I'm still learning, so feel free to, kindly, point out any mistakes.

* * *

_Sundays Are For Sleeping._

It was a morning like any other really. The fact that it was a Sunday didn't really change much in the matter anymore. Before Scott had been bitten, a Sunday morning meant sleep till noon, perhaps texting Scott, to see if the other boy wanted to hang out, if not then spend the day online, gaming, forums, everything he could get his hands on really, trying to occupy his busy mind.  
The nights might be for doing that last bit of homework he should have been doing Saturday, but Stiles tended to forget that part when thinking about Sundays.

Now Sundays meant getting up bright and early, sometimes even earlier than he did on school days, and going to the Hale house to_ practice_.

Stiles used the word practice loosely though, because in truth, _Stiles_ didn't practice at all.

In fact, the time the wolves spend practicing – because it was only the wolves that got to practice – Stiles spend sitting on the porch, watching the wolves practice. Which one could argue would be fun to do, and Stiles was the first to admit that seeing a pack of hard-headed wolves fighting each other, showing off their powers in a cavemen-like manner, could be very entertaining. However, after the first few times, it started getting rather dull.

The worst part was that there was really no reason for Stiles to actually be there.

Sure, Scott needed a ride since the wolf-boy had yet save up enough money to buy a car. (Stiles suspected that more of the money Scott earned, was in fact spent on Allison than saved, which might be the reason.)  
But after the third practice Stiles had offered that Scott simply borrowed Stiles' baby, by threat of torture and death if anything were to happen to it, of course. Scott would simply have to pay for the weekend gas then, which Stiles had thought was more than fair. Scott, however, had declined his offer as soon as it had left Stiles' mouth, claiming that Stiles _needed_ to be there, causing Stiles to, not for the first time, curse the day that Scott finally joined Derek's pack.

So here he sat, all alone on Derek's front porch, which was nice as front porches go, but not that exciting, cursing the day that Derek decided that the word "pack" included Stiles, and therefore Stiles' presence was needed at all pack-things.

The most ridicules thing, Stiles had mentioned to Scott once, trying not to rip out his own hair in frustration – who had barely been listening -, was that Alison and Lydia was not needed there. The two female non-werewolf members, had apparently been granted the privilege of sleeping however much they desired. Unlike Stiles, for whom sleep was a distant, but pleasant, memory.

Sure, Stiles understood why Derek would be apprehensive about Allison being there. She was, after all, the daughter of a hunter, a hunter herself, and had kidnapped and tortured two of the more wolfy pack-members. But that was all the past, Allison and Scott had kissed and made up, Allison had apologized to Erica and Boyd, and to Derek for plotting to kill him.

She hadn't apologized to Stiles for him being part for said crazy-ass plot to kill Derek, but Stiles could deal with that on his own.

What he couldn't deal with was the endless hours he spend watching Derek and his pack of misfit wolves running around the Hale grounds, showing off their skills and their, in the boys' case, rippling werewolf muscles.

This wasn't the way to spend a sunny Sunday morning. A sunny Sunday morning should be spent in bed, not in an old, creaking chair in Derek's porch. Not watching prior mentioned werewolf strutting around, showing his stuff, beating his pack-members into submission.

Not that Stiles didn't appreciate the view.

He really did; only, his brain couldn't take this much still-sitting. He needed to move, he needed an outlet for all the pent up energy inside of him. And sitting down, watching muscular men, and woman, play fight with each other wasn't a suitable outlet.

It only seemed to be successful in making it worse, in fact.

So Stiles, being a man of action, decided to do something about it. And by do something about it he meant tell Derek what he thought, and then agree to whatever the Alpha said that Stiles should do in the end.

* * *

He had trapped Derek by the door at lunchtime that Sunday. As soon as he put his foot down in front of the entrance so the Alpha couldn't enter, he could see the other wolves scattering behind Derek, eagerly trying to find something else to do.

"We need to talk."

Inwardly Stiles cringed by the use of such an overly cliche sentence, but Derek didn't seem faced by it.

"About what."

Stiles reckoned that only Derek could make a question sound like a statement, a skill that the Alpha took full advantage off. It didn't stop Stiles though, not this time anyway.

"About why the hell I'm here every freaking weekend?"

Derek simply stared at him, and Stiles felt the nerve he had gathered up slowly disappearing. Man, this was going well.

"I could be at home sleeping!" He continued, gathering his wits as much as he could with Derek's eyes on him, "But nooo, I have to be here, doing nothing because Mr. I'm-an-alpha-do-as-I-say demands! For the love of cheerios, I need sleep Derek!"

Derek was still starring at him by the time Stiles paused. Eyes unblinking, brows drawn together in a way that made Stiles' toes curl.

"I want to sleep, you know why? Because sleep is good, in fact sleep is great!" Stiles babbled, "I love sleep, I want to marry sleep and have little sleepy babies with it!"

This time Derek growled, turning away from Stiles, instead looking out into the garden he had been training in with his pack just moments ago.

"Go to bed earlier then."

Stiles was honestly stunned to silence, though not for long.

"What do you mean 'go to bed earlier', you don't go to bed early on a weekend! Why can't I just not come to these stupid training sessions, it's not like you need me!"

That was half of a lie, because the pack did need Stiles. They needed him to cook dinner for them, when they took a break from training, they needed him to get them to calm down whenever the fighting became a bit too rough, they needed him to referee whatever game they were playing that day. But these things weren't stuff that only Stiles could do; he just did them so he actually _had_ something to do.

"You have to be here."

Derek didn't really offer much of an explanation, not that he ever did. Normally Stiles would have accepted that, and simply done as the Alpha told him to, but today he felt like fighting for it. This was sleep they were talking about goddammit, and sleep was important!

"Why?" Stiles demanded, crossing his arms over his chest to, hopefully, show his defiance.

"Give me one good reason why-"

Stiles had hardly finished his sentence, before he was being cut off by Derek's lips. A surprised moan left him as he felt a tongue beg for entrance to his mouth, quickly giving it without much thought.

He could always think later when Derek wasn't kissing him.

The kiss was rough. Derek's lips were slightly chapped and his beard scratched Stiles' face as the kiss deepened, drawing another moan from Stiles, this time in pleasure.

He felt Derek's warm hands cupping his face, moving him closer, and Derek's long eyelashes brushing his skin as Stiles stood on his tiptoes, having been drawn in as close as possible.

The kiss ended all too soon if you asked Stiles, although he wasn't truly aware of just how long it had lasted. All he knew was that at one moment, Derek was kissing the life out of him, and the next, he wasn't and Stiles was left standing alone and suddenly feeling way too cold without Derek's body heat there to warm him.

"Because I say so."

It took Stiles a moment to get his brain to catch up, and actually understand what the Alpha was saying. By the time he was ready to react Derek had already entered the house, leaving Stiles alone on the porch.

"Oh." He said, looking at the place Derek had just been, his mind still a bit hazy, "okay then, boss."


End file.
